Sets of Two
by literatiwannabe
Summary: Post Fragile Balance, Jack's clone is left to deal. But maybe, he wasn't left completely alone....COMPLETE
1. Duality Part 1

Author: Christi

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue. Please. You'll end up owing me money, I'm that broke.

Spoilers: Anything up to _Fragile Balance _is up for grabs, though if they're there, they are small. Very small. Happens one month after the end of that episode.

Author's Note: So, this is an old story that had been archived here previously, but I've been wanting to revamp it a little and, uh, possibly add on a few more sections. I know that I said I was finished when I polished off _Divergence_, but apparently two years later, my brain has decided that I lied. Go figure. So, I'm going to repost the whole thing in smaller, edited chapters and then probably add on a bit. Sorry for those of you who have already read it.

---

I tend to live in the past because most of my life is there.

–Herb Caen

---

Over the course of his life, Jack O'Neill had been in a countless number of perilous situations. He could navigate through hostile territory without blinking, devise backup plan after backup plan if that's what was required, and he _would_ complete his mission because that was his job. So really, after all that, it was no surprise that he had managed to conquer South Colorado Springs High School with little more than a blink, a cocky smirk, and a really good pair of shades.

Even as a lowly sophomore, the guys feared him. The girls worshipped him. The teachers were reluctantly but irrevocably charmed by him. Without even trying, Jack O'Neill had become an undisputed teenage god—a fact that he tried not to think about too hard considering his previous career.

Predictably, he was miserable.

The guys were inane. The girls were vapid. The teachers were patronizing. He could have dealt with all that if he had to—if he could live through and manage to cope with Ba'al and his never-ending box of death-defying fun, he could certainly make it through high school. But he had been here a month now, and could almost _see_ himself slipping into the black despair of depression, a feeling he was _much_ too familiar with.

He didn't _want_ to be in high school, damnit. He had barely tolerated it the first time, what in the world had made him think that a second go around would make things any better? He just wanted to be back home at the SGC, going through that insane piece of technology that broke him into a billion pieces and put him back together again, his friends by his side.

His friends.

God, he missed them.

Jack had always been cautious about letting people into his life, and after Charlie died and Sara left, 'cautious' had morphed into downright unwilling. Yet here he was a little over seven years later, having lived a whole new life surrounded by three of the most mismatched friends he ever could have imagined, feeling like he had managed to misplace his right arm because they weren't with him anymore.

In the face of their loss, hockey tryouts and pubescent cheerleaders really didn't hold much appeal.

So he coasted through the halls with his trademark unflappability, feeling a little more numb each day, praying that feeling would stop entirely because at least empty was better than trying to hide this constant gnawing in his gut.

Peripherally, he was aware of the students gathered around him, not actually having the nerve to sit as his table, but trying to get some of his overwhelming coolness to rub off on them by positioning themselves nearby, watching him. He couldn't find the energy to give a damn, instead showing undue interest in what was spread on the cafeteria tray in front of him. The food resting there was mostly colorless and lacking any sort of defining shape or texture other than general mush, but it didn't really matter because Jack had no intention of actually eating it anyway. He just pushed it around on his plate, back and forth and back and forth, making it even more disgusting than it had been previously (if that was possible). The grayish blob matched his mood.

"Please tell me you weren't actually planning on eating that," a feminine voice said from above him.

His entire body froze and for one terrifying moment, it felt like he was in the freefall of his first parachute jump gone awry. It wasn't possible. It just….

Without his conscious permission, his eyes slid away from the glop on his plate, making their way up the curves of the figure standing at the other side of the table. Long legs encased in denim shorts, a simple sky blue T-shirt, a long rope of braided sunshine hair…and smiling blue eyes. There was a surreal moment where everything seemed to stop as her gaze locked with his own, Jack suddenly forgetting to breathe or think or function on some basic level.

"Because honestly, I think MREs are more edible than _that_ mess," she continued, a dimple wavering in the side of her cheek as he gawked at her.

"God, _Carter_…" he finally managed to gasp out, making a conscious attempt to keep his jaw from hanging open. "What did you _do_?"

"That's quite rude, Jack," a chastising voice said as a new figure stepped into the picture flanking Sam's left side, tall and scrawny with tell-tale floppy brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses. "Care to try again?"

Jack's head couldn't seem to wrap itself around this new development, spinning with too many emotions to sort through. "_Why_?" he demanded. "Why would you do this?"

A third figure joined their little party, covering Sam's right side now, and while there was no gold tattoo and the definite presence of black fuzz that could loosely be described as hair, it was nice to see that even as a fifteen year old, Teal'c was built like Colossus and tended to have an inexplicable fondness for Hawaiian shirts. At least _some_ things never changed. "We believed it to be the best course of action, O'Neill."

While he was still sitting there speechless, the figures moved as one, settling into the other three seats at the table without discussion. Carter's hands (the ones he was used to seeing load P90s and disarm naquada reactors) stole onto his tray and snatched the plate of mush out from under him, wrinkling her nose as she handed it to Daniel. He threw it into the trash with a shudder while he pushed his wayward glasses back up his nose. It seemed that much like Teal'c had always been WWF-worthy, Daniel had always been a geek.

Before Jack had a chance to protest, Carter handed him an apple with a look of resolve in her eyes that he was pretty sure had nothing to do with his choice of lunch menus. Jack could feel the anger building in him, gathering itself for what promised to be a truly spectacular explosion. That is, until she just held his gaze unapologetically and said softly, "We don't leave people behind, remember?"

His nice little bubble of righteous indignation popped almost audibly and Jack slumped over onto the table, his forehead resting on his folded arms. Of course they had gone and done something ridiculous like this. Why hadn't it occurred to him that they would? Because it really hadn't, not back when all this had first happened and not during any time of the month since then had this particular scenario ever entered his mind. But, Christ, they had followed Carter's dad into _hell_, you didn't think they'd follow you to _high school_? It was _wrong_; now they were condemned to this weird-assed existence, too. This wasn't the way things were supposed to work—you shouldn't be able to meet the best friends of your life at the age of 44 and then end up with the same Alma Mater. It was just _wrong_ that they had done this for him, and it was easier to be angry about it than own up to the overwhelming gratitude.

"I _really_ don't like you guys right now," he muttered.

"We figured as much," Daniel said easily, taking out a sandwich from a plastic baggie and munching on it.

"We also figured that would pass fairly quickly," Sam stated calmly, working on a bag of potato chips.

A disbelieving snort emerged from him as he sprawled half prone across the table. Of course they had. It was so like them just to assume that he'd get over it and accept it. Well, if they thought he was just going to make this easy on them….

At some point, Jack realized that his fingertips were resting against the skin of Carter's forearm, just barely touching her. Some part of him needed to know that she was really here. As it turned out, touching a teenage Carter was pretty much the same as touching a full-grown Carter, a comforting thought in and of itself. That was when he realized with startling clarity that they had been right _again_. And now, he had an entire lifetime of them being right to look forward to.

"Aw…_crap_."

---

"Hey, how come Teal'c gets to take Remedial Pre-Algebra and I get stuck with Pre-Calculus?"

"Teal'c has never had any kind of math before, and you used to fly fighter jets for a living, sir."

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I actually want to apply myself or whatever. And seriously, you gotta drop the sir thing. Not only is it no longer true, it's kinda…creepy in this setting."

"I'll work on it."

"Good."

"O'Neill."

"Yeah, Teal'c?"

"While I understand that this 'math' is required of your culture and therefore will attempt it to the best of my ability, I see no class on my schedule that will allow me to continue to hone my battle skills in preparation for one day rejoining the war against the Goa'uld."

"Erm…well…they don't really…teach…_battle _here, T."

"Actually, that's not entirely true, Jack. There's one thing he could try."

"By all means, Daniel, enlighten us."

"Well, he could always…join the football team."

---

Practically overnight Jack's high school existence went from slightly ridiculous to downright surreal. Whereas before he had been comfortable with his notoriety as some sort of unwilling teenage icon, the presence of his team made it even more noticeable. Without conscious effort, the team had managed to take over the institution, four unlikely misfits amongst a sea of adolescents. They were equally revered and reviled, awed and misunderstood, and in general, they were too wrapped up in each other to notice much. This, of course, made them even cooler.

A loner no longer, Jack could always be found with one of his team by his side. In his old life, this constant companionship might have gotten real old _real_ quick; here in this new life it was one of the things that kept him sane. Finally, he could be himself again, minus the attachment of a bottle of Guinness and the license to handle dangerous explosives (both of which he fully planned on reacquiring at some point in the future). As predicted, he soon gave up on being angry with them. It wouldn't change anything anyway, and even though they drove him up the wall sometimes, he wouldn't really want to go back to trying to live through this without them. Besides, at least this way he had Daniel to conjugate Spanish verbs for him, Carter to explain Calculus, and Teal'c to…be Teal'c.

Admittedly, things didn't always go smoothly. If Teal'c's culture shock had been funny seven years ago when introduced to the limited world of the SGC, his reaction now was downright hysterical. As it turned out, trying to explain what Oprah was didn't even hold a candle to the difficulty they had explaining things like 'study hall', 'pep rally', and 'homework'. Meanwhile, Sam and Daniel were going nuts with boredom—school had, apparently, been mind-numbing for them both the _first_ time around. The _second_ time…well, Daniel had taken up the recreational hobby of going systematically through his history textbook and correcting the numerous mistakes in it, no matter how many times Jack pointed out that really, you weren't supposed to _write_ in the textbooks. Carter was taking a much more logical approach, doing exactly what was required of her in school with ease and expending her excess energy on writing endless books and papers and theories that she kept in an ever-growing three ring binder. Maybe it was just the fact that, hormonally speaking, Jack was fifteen again, but he honestly thought that her constantly ink-stained hands were endearing.

So really, it wasn't any surprise that they didn't seem to notice their apparent popularity much. In many ways, it was a lot like being SG-1 had been—over the years, they had become accustomed to being infamous and awed in turn. It was, however, a surprise that it didn't occur to Jack until at least the second week in that their instant status had certain…advantages. Much like having a team-only locker room or extra week of leave had been perks of their old job, there had to be pluses to the current situation.

"I don't understand what you're getting at," Daniel said one day at lunch while munching on a carrot stick and bemoaning the lack of good coffee available.

Jack shrugged. "I don't know, really. I'm just saying that, for whatever reason, people seem to…like us. Or something. And it could prove useful. For example, Teal'c got on to the football team three weeks after tryouts were over."

"Well, sure…but look at Teal'c," Carter pointed out.

Jack shrugged. "I know. I'm just saying. This isn't the SGC. People here don't adore quietly or subtly with proper military decorum."

His point was made a week later when he decided on a whim to join the chess team. When he walked into their meeting room, the team consisted of three teenage boys who were actually _geekier_ than Daniel, aged thirty-five or fifteen.

Two weeks later, chess was the most popular new fad to hit South Colorado Springs High School in twenty years.

Surveying the cafeteria full of people attempting to play the game, Jack smirked. "_This_ is what I was getting at."


	2. Duality Part 2

---

The air outside was cold, but it was Teal'c's first football game, so they dealt with it. Besides, it was a good time to ask an important question.

"Hey, Carter?"

"Hmmm?"

"Does…he…know about you guys?"

"He?"

"You know. The other me."

"Oh. Him. Uh…no."

"How come?"

"…Well, we…they…whatever…didn't think…he wouldn't approve."

"What makes you think that?"

"Jack, _you_ didn't approve and we did it _for_ you."

"And him. Sort of. I came around. Why shouldn't he?"

"It's different."

"How?"

"It just is."

On the field, Teal'c took down another guy. Hard. Hard enough that people winced.

"Jack?"

"Yes, Carter?"

"You _did_ explain to Teal'c that football isn't _actually_ battle, right?"

"…I'm pretty sure he got the point. I think."

"Oh, boy."

---

Strangely, now that he wasn't caught up in being miserable, Jack found himself sort of enjoying his classes. Not that he'd ever admit it, of course. But it was sort of…fun. Sure, it was stuff he had probably learned before, but he hadn't really paid much attention to secondary education the first time around, preoccupied with flying and fighting because even back then, he knew where he was supposed to be.

Besides, as much as he hated to admit it, high school had been a long time ago for him, so he honestly didn't _remember_ a lot of it. So it was pretty easy to just pretend that this was the first time around, and ignore Daniel's indulgent smile when he actually exhibited a moderate amount of enthusiasm for it all.

He could let Daniel get away with that sort of thing now because for every patronizing look Space Monkey sent him, Carter granted him a rather pleased one. So, in the end, it all balanced out. Besides, three weeks after they arrived, Daniel discovered the wonder of books on tape, and quickly got involved in trying to learn whatever obscure languages he _didn't_ already speak. This week, it was Farsi. Which made Jack smirk, because wouldn't Danny-boy just keel over if he found out that Jack already knew that one?

Absently, he noted that Daniel's pronunciation sucked.

They were all lazing about in a field behind the school, waiting for football practice to be over. It had become routine—they couldn't leave Teal'c by himself quite yet (he had a tendency to say slightly startling things to the average bystander), and besides, it was still warm outside and they were accustomed to spending large amounts of time outdoors together.

But it was different now. No more semi-automatics, routine patrols, or soil samples. Just Daniel leaning against a tree with his headphones on, muttering after his tape, Carter stretched out on the grass with her head propped up on her backpack (checking over their homework), and Jack, with his head resting comfortably on Carter's _stomach_ of all places, after discovering a few days ago that she didn't mind. It had been weird for all of thirty seconds, until they had simply stopped letting it.

Jack was _so_ not complaining. If he was completely honest with himself (something he had never been very good at but had been attempting lately) he'd have to admit that in recent years, cuddling with Sam had been a favorite fantasy. Right behind doing…other things…with Sam. Hey, he had been an old man, and he had been alone a long time. Some days, you came home and wanted to just…_be_…with someone. For him, just anyone wouldn't do. And because it wasn't allowed to be her, he had stamped out the craving.

Now, it was allowed. Hell, now _everything_ was allowed. They hadn't talked about it, of course. They didn't _do_ that, even now. (Though they were working on it. Kinda.) This was as far as things had gone, and he was okay with that, too. Because with the warmth of her stomach and the early fall sun seeping into him as he paged through _Hamlet_, her eyes occasionally looking down her body towards him, he was perfectly content.

God, he _really_ hoped he could blame the sappiness on his adolescent brain chemistry. Somehow, he doubted it. But that was okay, too.

From his position against the tree, Daniel butchered a sentence. Jack smirked.

"Stop it," Carter chastised lightly.

He smiled. "Can't help it. He's making a mess of it." He didn't know how she knew that he spoke Farsi in the first place, but found he didn't really care.

"You could always help him."

"Nah. It's too much fun to hear him get it wrong."

He didn't look, but he knew, just _knew_, that she was rolling her eyes at him. He didn't care about that either. Apparently, complacency was another symptom of…young age. He just turned back to the Bard, and when her hand came up and ruffled through his hair, he couldn't stop it.

He smirked again.

---

"Whose idea was it?"

"Whose idea was what?"

"You know. The clone thing."

"Oh. That again. Does it matter?"

"I don't know, Carter. Maybe. So, who was it?"

She blinked and shifted her weight slightly.

"…You know, I never really got what was so great about that play."

"Very unsubtle change of subject, Sam. But seriously, you don't get _Hamlet_? It's classic."

"So people keep telling me. Literature was never my strong suit. But I mean, it's an entire play about a slightly whiny, indecisive type who talks too much but rarely _says_ anything. His family all dies, he can't follow some very good advice, he contemplates suicide and possibly goes insane. Or not. It's all very confusing."

"…Huh."

"What?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I just…"

"_What_?"

"…Daniel is Hamlet."

"…Don't be ridicu…_huh_."

They glanced at Daniel.

"Puts a whole new perspective on the thing."

"I'd say."

Silence. Crickets. Grunting football players.

"…Jack?"

"Sam?"

"It was me."

"I know. Thanks."

"Yeah."

---

After awhile, Jack just gave up thinking about it. All it managed to do was give him a headache, and at some point he had moved beyond self-flagellation. It was too complicated to try and figure out. He was living in the present, but his present was also his past, and maybe his future was in his past, but it wasn't really his past because it was the present and it was different than the past…it just kept going around like that. Sam was right, time was really all relative, and it wasn't until now that he really began to comprehend all the possible problems that statement covered. Somehow, he didn't think that Carter could manage to explain this one with fruit, either. Though maybe someday, he'd ask her to try.

Right now, he had actually just decided to…let it be. They had been here a month and they weren't going anywhere and even if Jack didn't understand it, he accepted it now. He was 52, he was 15. It didn't really matter anymore. He just was, and that was what mattered.

So, eight weeks after he had left himself on the curb of South Colorado Springs High School, Jack O'Neill was a teenage leviathan. Teal'c was a football hero, Daniel a teacher's pet, and Sam the object of teenage lust. And Jack still led them, just not quite like before. Now there was football instead of skirmishes, _Hamlet_ instead of artifacts, and Carter's stomach instead of interminable angst.

It was a good life.

So he didn't worry so much about how it all worked or what it all meant or even what would come next. Because there were more pressing issues to deal with, like trying to convince them all to dress up for Halloween, passing Friday's chemistry test, and laughing his ass off when the homecoming theme was announced as 'A Walk Through The Stars'.

He'd never underappreciate a good bit of irony again.

---

"So, how about it Carter? Wanna go on 'A Walk Through The Stars' with me?"

"I thought we had already done that, sir."

Really, she had it _almost_ down. Just not quite.

"_Sam_."

"Right. Sorry." She wrinkled her nose. "Habit."

"I know, I know. So…?"

"…You're serious?"

"Well…yeah. Sure. Why not?"

"I don't know. It just seems so…I don't know…juvenile, I guess."

"Look in the mirror, Sam. We _are_ juveniles."

"Still. I hadn't really thought…it would be something you'd want to do."

He shrugged, attempting nonchalance. "Hey, dancing to bad music and mocking cheap decorations. And no dress blues. Could be worse."

"Sure. I just hadn't planned on going. But I mean, if you really _want_ to, I wouldn't _mind_…"

"Good!" Relief. Giddiness. Sappy again. Damnit. "Besides, I'm pretty sure you kinda have to go."

"What? Why?"

"…Carter, you're on Homecoming Court."

"…_WHAT_!"


	3. Dichotomy Part 1

---

"One's real life is often the life that one does not lead." –Oscar Wilde

---

It was January, right around midterms actually, that Jack began to worry. He couldn't figure out exactly what he was worrying about; it was just a nearly constant nagging in the back of his mind that taunted him.

It didn't make any sense. For the first time in what seemed like ages, Jack O'Neill was strangely…happy. Sure, there were downsides to his current situation—no beer, no 'Gate, bad music, and the phrase 'surrounded by idiots' had taken on a whole new meaning. But really, it wasn't _so_ bad. He had his friends with him now, and so it made the strange high school existence that was his life seem like…a weird sort of extended vacation with constant adolescent entertainment to watch and mock.

Jack had needed a vacation for a long, _long_ time.

And so he had taken advantage of it all—for once in his life, he let himself relax and just _be_. But now, he was worrying, and he couldn't figure out why.

Most of the time, he managed to ignore it, because there were so many other, more pleasant things to concentrate on. Like trying to help Teal'c find a hobby now that football season was over, or laughing every time Daniel bitched about the Spanish teacher's grammar, or convincing Sam that yes, he really _did_ need tutoring in chemistry so that she'd spend the extra hour going over it with him.

Still, it was there now. And it didn't seem to be going away.

---

"No _way_."

No matter how hard they stared at the flyer, the words didn't change. Go figure.

"What are even the odds of that?"

"Pretty good, I'd think. Lots of people put on _Hamlet_ as a school play."

"Yeah, but who would have guessed…I mean, it was supposed to be a _joke_, Sam."

"I remember, Jack. I was there, after all."

"…But I mean…he wasn't _actually_ supposed to be Hamlet!"

She shrugged. "Maybe it's that overwhelming coolness thing again?"

"Maybe. Doesn't make it less…weird."

"No. No, it doesn't."

But no matter how hard they stared at the cast list, it still read Hamlet: Daniel Jackson.

"You know, if this is what our teenage demagogue status can get us, I _still _don't understand why…."

"Jack, for the last time—there is no way I am trying out for the cheerleading team."

---

Around the same time that Daniel was pleasantly distracted by his budding ambitions as a thespian, the new semester schedules were released. Most of their classes stayed the same—except for Teal'c. The first semester, he had a free period that he used to train in the weight room. However, the coach had apparently asked him to cut back on the weight training, as his sheer bulk was starting to be even too much for the other football players to take. As a result, Teal'c was left to find an elective. On his own.

Which is how Teal'c, Jaffa warrior and former First Prime of Apophis, got enrolled in _Life Sciences_.

At first, Jack had a hard time understanding why Sam and Daniel found this so funny. "Am I missing the joke?" he asked as he watched the two of them trying not to laugh and failing miserably.

Sam grinned at him, flipping a long strand of blonde hair behind her shoulder. "You _do_ realize what 'Life Sciences' _is_, don't you?"

"…Some kind of science?"

Daniel rubbed the back of his neck. "Not exactly. It's…well…"

"Home Economics, Jack. Teal'c is going to be taking Home Ec."

Jack looked at the little printed out schedule again in disbelief. "I…" This wasn't his normal dumb act. Jack had gone to high school before the whole PC movement. He was pretty sure that in his day, Home Ec was just called…Home Ec. "Like…cooking and sewing and stuff?"

"Yes, exactly like that."

Jack's eyes slid up to meet Teal'c unperturbed brown ones. "Did you…realize..?"

The Jaffa eyebrow raise made an appearance, and Teal'c nodded a little. "Indeed. As I am unfamiliar with many of the customs of this world, it seemed wise to take a class devoted to the study of such things."

Really, it made a lot of sense. He should be used to that, as it was coming from Teal'c. Still, Jack had the feeling that it was going to take him a long time to get over the mental image of Teal'c in an apron.

---

"So, T, are you enjoying Home Ec?"

"Indeed I am, O'Neill."

"…Really?"

"Yes. I find cooking especially to be most appealing. The instructor is currently attempting to educate us in the art of soufflé creation."

"Uh-huh. And how is that going?"

"Very well, O'Neill."

"Good! Good, good, that's good…hey, Sam likes those things."

"I am aware, O'Neill."

"…How hard is it to learn, exactly?"

---

While Teal'c was some kind of cooking savant, Jack…wasn't. However, in his Home Ec explorations with T, he did discover a disturbing proficiency with knitting needles. In no time at all, he could make anything from socks to hats to blankets. Teal'c apparently saw it as some kind of great accomplishment, while Daniel laughed and laughed and laughed. Sam, though, just smiled and said she wasn't surprised.

"I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

She shrugged. "It makes sense. You've always liked to keep your hands busy. At least this is something productive."

As a reward for making him feel less strange about it all, he knitted her a winter hat. A blue one, because Sam in blue made him happy. It had a pom-pom on the end that he could play with and everything. He felt a little ridiculous when giving it to her, but she just pulled it on over the long hair that he was quickly becoming enamored with and hugged him tightly.

As Jack buried his nose in the warm softness of her neck, he wondered if he could figure out how to make matching gloves.


	4. Dichotomy Part 2

---

"Remind me again how I got roped into making scenery for this stupid play?"

"…You signed up for art class?"

He had. Damn him for wanting to improve his pottery skills.

"Still. If I have to hear Daniel make one more stupid, long-winded speech about the meaning of life, I'll…I'll shrink his costume tights."

"Go ahead. I think that might earn you the undying gratitude of every girl attending this thing."

"Too much information, Sam. Way too much. Hey, why aren't you helping?"

"Jack, you've seen my artistic skills. You know, the non-existent ones."

Stick figures. He remembered now.

"Awe, I don't know, I thought she was cute, with her little blonde curls and smiley face…"

"Shut up and paint, Jack."

---

He didn't manage to figure out what it was that had been bothering him until Sam's three-ring binder filled with astrophysics scribbles was discovered by the science teacher. Suddenly, Sam was in the Principal's office for hours on end, surrounded by science teachers and college advisors and other intellectual types who were looking at it and generally going 'ooooh'.

It took the better part of three days before she was free of them all and rejoined the lunch table with nothing more than air of slight annoyance. "Can you believe all that? The nerve! I mean, Mr. Spelding didn't even have the right to look at it in the first place, but then to have everything passed around like that…it's a good thing I keep all the classified stuff at home…" she snorted as she opened her lunch, but her rant didn't ease the knot of panic that had curled up inside of Jack's stomach.

"Sam…what did they all want?"

She looked at him blankly for a second before catching on. "Oh, nothing."

"Sam, three days of meetings isn't nothing."

She shook her head, sharing a look with Daniel. "It's not important."

Feeling slightly betrayed, Jack turned his gaze to Daniel. "You know?"

"I could guess," the former archeologist replied nonchalantly.

"Well, tell me!" He was bordering on petulant and he knew it. But damnit, he was fifteen again. He was allowed to be petulant sometimes.

Sam sighed. "It was stupid. They just wanted to skip me a few grades is all."

"…How many grades?"

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter, as I told them in no uncertain terms that it wasn't going to happen."

That seemed to be the end of the conversation as far as she was concerned, but it was enough to hit Jack with all the worries he had been burying the last few weeks, trying to pretend didn't exist. Because they knew now about Carter and how brilliant she was. If she wanted, Sam could be out of this cement block institution before the next bell rang. And while she shrugged it off as nothing…what if it wasn't?

The existence of the three-ring binder and Daniel's sudden urge to participate in performance art and T's new preoccupation with The Food Network were all little hints, signs that his friends were searching for something to keep them entertained while they were stuck here in limbo with him. Because that's what they were—stuck. It wasn't so bad for Jack on an intellectual level—he had pretty much retained the mentality of a teenager for the majority of his life. But them? They were all brilliant and talented and driven. They deserved better than this...replacement life.

They had done this for him—he had known that from the moment they had appeared in the cafeteria. And while sure, they seemed okay with it all so far, what if it was all adding up? What if, one day, they came to school and looked at him and only saw the reason they were condemned to this half-existence?

What if they finally realized that he hadn't been worth the sacrifice?

That was the fear that had subconsciously burrowed its way into his heart, the one that kept him awake at night when they were gone and he was alone. Because he had no doubt that they could do this without him if they were so inclined.

But he had no idea how he'd survive without them.

---

"So, really. How many grades?"

"…Why do you want to know?"

"I just _do_. How many?"

"…No. Forget it. I'm not telling you."

"Carter…"

She rose an eyebrow at the old name. "Don't even try it."

Damn. She had gotten out of the 'sir' habit a little too quickly after all.

"But…"

"No! Why are you pressing this? What does it matter?"

"I…"

He didn't have an answer. Not one he would share, anyway.

---

Despite his newfound fears, or maybe because of them, he did actually try to figure out how to make matching gloves for Sam's hat. But as it turned out, gloves were a nightmare involving four needles and prongs and other crazy things that he did not understand. So he made mittens instead. Sure, the top of the left one was green because he had run out yarn right at the end, and the thumbs looked about two times longer than they needed to be. But they were mittens. Sort of.

He gave them to her on the opening night of Daniel's play, as they were heading inside the building. Sam just fingered them for a moment before slipping them on and hugging him again.

This knitting thing definitely had its advantages.

When they pulled apart, she kept an arm slung around his waist. He didn't protest. Maybe they _would _resent him someday. All the better reason to enjoy this now, while it lasted.

"You know, I've been thinking," Sam said finally.

"When aren't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "We should talk to the Air Force."

Oh. Oh shit.

"…About what?"

No, his voice did _not_ just crack. Really.

"About buying a house."

Jack blinked. Of all the many responses he had been preparing himself for, no version of that had been on the list. "…Huh?"

She glanced up at him, an almost nervous expression on her face. "Well, it's just that right now, they're spending money to pay the bills for four separate apartments. That's got to be a waste of money. A house would be more expensive initially, but would even out after awhile. And it doesn't have to be anything fancy. It could just be…" She sighed. "I mean, the four of us are always together anyway…and I…going home alone at night…I mean, it wasn't so bad you know, back when we were…but now…."

She was actually rambling—about something other than science. It was so…damn…_cute_. Her blue eyes were wider than normal and her face pale except for her nose which was red in the winter cold, and with the blue hat and mittens, blonde braid, and nervous expression she looked about eleven. "…I mean, if you think…you could put up with us all the time."

Was she _nuts_? This was…this was…_perfect_. Maybe they wouldn't end up hating him after all. In fact, now that he was really thinking about it, he realized that if Sam had been privy to his thoughts the past few weeks, she would have decked him. And he would have deserved it.

But she didn't need to know all that. So, Jack just smirked and replied, "Oh, I think I could manage. I mean, Teal'c can keep us fed, I can keep us in warm socks, you can fix things…" he stopped, thinking. "What would Space Monkey do?"

Sam grinned up at him, edging a little closer. He happily tightened his hold on her shoulders. "Oh, he'd be there purely for entertainment value."

---

"So, I think I've narrowed it down to three houses."

"Already? That was quick."

"Well, I just narrowed it down by a system involving price range, location, and physical components, ranking them from the most important to the least, with the most being things like size and the condition of the property…"

Only Sam could turn house hunting into a scientific formula.

"Sam. Just tell me about the houses."

"Okay. Well, this one is nice, good sized backyard and garage, new appliances in the kitchen. And this one just got a new roof put on."

"Let me guess, you like the third one."

She smiled a little. "Well, it's closest to school. And while it doesn't have much of a back yard, the front yard is nice, with trees and a little porch in front of the house. There's a full basement…we could put a game table down there or something. And it has a fireplace, which I kind of thought might be nice."

It would be nice. But… "Sam, this is only a three bedroom house."

When he looked back at her, she was blushing. "I know."

Jack was pretty sure his stomach had flipped right over. He looked down at the paper, then back at her, a grin spreading across his face.

"It's perfect."


	5. Divergence Part 1

---

"Life can only be understood backwards; but must be lived forwards."

–Soren Keirkegaard

---

It really was the perfect house for them, and that was as true in June as it had been back in January. It had taken a few months, but they were finally settled in, their own warped little version of the American family of four. There was even a picket fence, though Jack firmly refused to let Teal'c paint it white.

The Air Force had taken their sweet time being convinced that this was the best plan for their four unwanted genetic misfits, but the house had finally been bought and the papers signed. Jack suspected that Hammond had a lot to do with it, but had no substantial proof other than his suspicion of the older man's slightly sentimental nature. So they had spent weeks happily bickering about what went where and which sofa to buy with their Air Force allowance and the money from their pathetic summer jobs and trying to convince Teal'c that royal purple was _not_ a good color for bathrooms. Now, the little house was distinctly their own, a strange reflection of the people they had once been and who they were now slowly becoming.

There were history books and scientific magazines everywhere, a disturbing number of candles for T's mediation stuff, and a chess board that had taken up permanent residence on the coffee table, all echoes of the lives that they remembered from before. But there was also a growing collection of modern plays taking space on their bookshelves, an ever-expanding recipe book in the kitchen, and hockey gear stashed in the front hall now that Jack's knees weren't crap anymore. They were new, parts of themselves that hadn't existed previously.

Sam's new little hobby decorated the walls, too—photography. It was nothing fancy or artistic or even that good, but somewhere along the line she had developed a penchant for capturing every ridiculous moment of their strange lives that she could on film, posting the snapshots on the walls for all to look at. Jack tried to get her to explain the new obsession once, but she just kind of shrugged and said that pictures had a lot to do with making a house a home. It took him a few months to really get it—she was trying to fill one more void that had been created by their decision to get themselves shrunk for him. She didn't technically have a father or a brother or nieces and nephews anymore. But she had the three of them.

Their walls were her new family album.

As usual, Daniel and T had caught on quicker than Jack had. So all three of them put up with her photo preoccupation, because when it came right down to it, Sam ruled them all with nothing more than a smile. Part of Jack thought that it was actually kind of nice to have the pictures around, though he'd never admit to something so sappy. It was just another aspect of their new lives that they learned to adjust to, like not being able to drive after 2 a.m. or, much to Jack's chagrin, still being too short to reach the top cabinet.

Gradually, life was becoming less and less strange as they all settled into the way things were now and let their old lives slip further and further away from them. It didn't happen overnight or even very quickly, but it happened all the same. At some point, Jack woke up in the morning and stopped expecting to see the fifty-something-year-old staring back at him through the bathroom mirror.

---

"Look what we bought, Sam!"

She stared at the three of them with a sort of fascinated horror. "What _is_ that?"

"I would think you'd recognize a car when you saw one."

"I do. _That_ is not a car."

"Sure it is. It has all four wheels and everything."

"Uh-huh. Well, if it's a car, explain to me why the three of you are _pushing_ it into our driveway?"

"…Yeah, well…that's where you come in, right?"

Jack was actually _grinning_. Damn him.

"…Oh boy…"

---

Summer break was a welcome reprieve to the tedium of public high school, and summer weekends were better than most everything else. They rarely had to work, so it was generally just two days of hanging out around the house together. The front yard was usually the lounging spot of choice, where Teal'c and Jack could toss a ball around if they weren't busy trying to fix the ever-creaking front porch, where Daniel could laze around in the hammock, and where they all could watch Sam try to fix the car that was now permanently marooned in the driveway. They took turns picking the music of the day that they'd blare through the stereo they dragged onto the front steps, and almost always tried to barbeque on the pathetic little charcoal grill they had bought and stuck on the slab of concrete behind the house that the realtor had the nerve to call a patio.

Theirs was the only house in the entire neighborhood where you were as likely to hear opera being blasted into the air as you were classic rock.

Despite Jack's moments of sentimentality, their life together wasn't idyllic. They got on each other's nerves. Daniel and Jack bickered on a daily basis. Teal'c had taken to locking his bedroom door when they were all being too much for him. Sam threw a temper tantrum or two a month, which Jack found predictably adorable because with every little slip of the perfect façade, she was less Carter and more his Sam. They lived on a shoestring budget that was constantly stretched to its limit between trying to cater to Teal'c cooking practices, Daniel's splurging habits, and Jack's ever-expanding feet. No matter how much Jack and Teal'c banged on the porch, it still creaked, and parts of the roof leaked when it rained too hard. He knew all this; he saw it all and recognized the pain in the ass it could be.

But when all was said and done, it could be a lot of fun, too. And at some point over the last year, Jack O'Neill had taken to focusing on the good stuff, which in itself was a minor miracle.

He didn't mind bickering with Daniel because he had always done that and getting along with him would seem strange now. If T wanted to lock himself in his room, then that was okay with him because Teal'c had always kept to himself. Sure, Carter knew how to pick a fight if she was so inclined. But he got to share a room, a bed, and slowly, parts of who he was with her now, and that was worth a hell of a lot of teenaged mood swings.

Budgets could be stretched, porches could creak if they were so inclined, and pots caught the water that the roof could not. Second chances, as it turned out, were worth the trouble.

---

"How's it going, Sam?"

"Oh, it's…not. Hand me the wrench over there, would you Daniel?"

He grabbed something that lay in the general vicinity of where her hand had gestured and handed it over. She took it, cursing under her breath. Not an uncommon occurrence nowadays.

"Daniel, I need you to do me a favor."

"Yeah?"

"The next time Jack gets the brilliant idea to buy the three hundred dollar junker to save money because 'Carter can fix it', have Teal'c hit him for me."


	6. Divergence 2

---

So of course it was right when they were getting comfortable that the inevitable happened. Jack realized right away that it wasn't really anyone's fault—if he had been a Brigadier General (and thank whatever God there was that he wasn't) signing off regularly on monthly checks of at least a moderate size to unidentified parties, he would have gotten curious too.

Still, it was quite a shock to the system to open the door expecting pizza for movie night and find the man he used to be standing there instead.

There really wasn't a good excuse for Jack's dumbfounded reaction other than a genuine level of astonishment that he used to be able to hide. He had gotten out of the habit of keeping his emotions in check in recent months though, because here it didn't matter if he laughed out loud a lot or gazed at Sam with what he sheepishly admitted was adoration from time to time. So when "Uhh…" was all he could come up with to say, his older counterpart was suitably amused.

"Well, that just says it all, doesn't it?" O'Neill said a little scathingly.

Jack blinked. Wow, that whole sarcasm thing was a bit annoying from the other side. "…Pretty much, I suppose. What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

Yes, there was still a certain level of passive aggressiveness going on there. The man had stranded him all alone at a public high school, for cryin' out loud. It wasn't the first time he had been pissed at himself and it likely wouldn't be the last.

"Something about curiosity and a cat," was his older version's reply. "So you convinced them to buy you a house, huh?"

"Uh…" was again all Jack managed to choke out before footsteps fell behind him and Sam appeared behind him.

"Jack? Is that the pizza? Because we're _starving_ in there. I think Teal'c might start chewing on the couch if…" she started before reaching him and seeing who it was framed in the doorway. If anything, her reaction was even more comical than Jack's had been, because it was so wonderfully visible. The girl paled three shades and looked between them once, twice, then three times. "Oh. _Oh. _Wow. That's…uh…weird."

He loved that after a year in high school, the five syllable words had started to disappear and when faced with something like this, _weird_ was the first thing that tripped off her tongue. And because he was barely sixteen and allowed to be a bit childish and because it made him feel a little better, Jack let himself slip an arm around her and pull her closer for a minute. He even let himself gloat a little bit when she came without hesitation. "Yeah, just a bit," he acknowledged. "Go tell the guys to quit bitching—the pizza will get here when it gets here."

She nodded a little. "Sure." She started to leave, but turned back almost right away. "You're okay?"

They were allowed to ask stuff like that now, and they had actually started to, which was nice. "Yeah," he assured her. "Fine."

"I'm sure as hell not!" said the older O'Neill's distraught voice from the door. Luckily, Sam had managed to slip out before then, so Jack could deal with himself…himself.

Now it was Jack's turn to be ridiculously pleased at O'Neill's obvious discomfort. "You…that…she…I mean…all three of them?"

Jack grinned easily. "Yup."

"…When?"

"About a month after me. Us. Whatever."

"But…_why_?"

Jack shrugged. He knew they had done it for him, because of him, but even after all of these months and several nearly paralyzing periods of self-doubt, he didn't really understand the why of it all, not really. He had just stopped caring so much. "Something about not leaving people behind, I think."

Maybe it really was that simple. Maybe it always had been.

And suddenly, he felt sorry for the man before him, because he better than anyone understood the confusion he was facing now. Sam really was rubbing off on him. He was fairly certain he hadn't used to be this…nice. "Look, you kinda seem a bit shaken up…do you want to…come in or something? There's gonna be pizza, and Daniel rented movies. God knows what they'll be—some obscure history documentary, more than likely, but…"

He stayed. Why, Jack was never really sure. But he did. He came in, he looked around, and it was awkward as hell. But he paid for the pizza, so it wasn't all bad.

---

"So…they bought you a house."

"Yeah. Sam's idea. She picked it out, too. I'm pretty sure there were charts involved."

"Sounds like Carter. It's nice. A bit small for the four of you."

"…Yeah, that's not really a problem."

"No, I…what?" Then he must have caught sight of the ear-splitting grin and mumbled, "You and Sam…?"

Jack couldn't stop the gloating, though he knew he should have at least tried. "Yeah."

"Oh. She's getting married, you know."

"Carter? Really? Wow. Hey, Sam!"

"Yeah?"

"She's getting married!"

It was too cliché _not_ to happen. Sam looked at O'Neill, blue eyes wide. "Wow. Congratu…."

"No, to some other guy," Jack clarified.

She stopped. "…Really?"

Jack's ego was doing a little dance. "Yup."

"…Huh. That's…interesting."

He was going to rub it in. He just had to.

"Yup. You sound surprised. You don't want to get married?"

"Oh, sure, I just…didn't think…."

And suddenly, it was less funny. Because something really important occurred to him.

"Sam…would you marry _me_?"

She smiled a little and frowned a little at the same time. "What, now? Or in some vague and undetermined future?"

"Either. Both. Whatever."

She bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. "Can we wait until we turn eighteen? It cuts down on the paperwork."

She really _was_ perfect.

---

The older O'Neill combed the house from top to bottom. He mocked Daniel and his inherent geekdom, was suitably awed by how much Teal'c…hadn't changed over the years, and lingered over the photos that adorned the walls with an unreadable expression hanging in his eyes.

Watching him, Jack had the uncanny realization that he really _wasn't_ that man anymore. In less than a year, he had somehow started an entirely different life. Maybe it shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did, because when he thought about it, Jack realized that he had gone through several lifetimes over the years—childhood and the Air Force, Sara and Charlie, after Charlie, after Abydos, and then after Abydos the second time. His entire life could be broken to into these separate segments where he changed because it was all he could to do to survive. Somehow, this was no different.

Standing at the door, he looked up at his counterpart, a little confused by it all, but a little relieved, too. It was nice, not feeling like he had to be this man anymore. He could be simply whatever he was. He didn't really know what that implied with regards to the bigger picture, he just knew it made him feel…better. Because now, he could do what he wanted. He could go into the Air Force if he wanted, but he could also play hockey this time around, or become an astronomer if he decided to. He could (and would) marry Sam and have half a dozen children. He could embrace the cliché about the future being filled with possibilities because for the first time in a long time for Jack O'Neill, it was.

He didn't say any of that though. It would have seemed petty, or like he was rubbing it in, and Jack sensed that it was sort of the last thing this guy needed. "I'm glad you came," was all he said, but it was honest.

"I…" the man shook his head with a heavy sigh. "Part of me is still really pissed about this."

Jack flashed him a grin. "Yeah. It passes pretty quick, though."

"Lucky for them."

"Lucky for me," Jack corrected him.

O'Neill smiled. "That too. They really did this…for you."

"And you. Us. Or something. I try not to think about it too much."

"I can see why."

Jack was pretty sure that the guy had a photo of him and Sam in his pocket that used to be wedged in the bathroom mirror. He didn't say anything, though. And there was no overdone lecture about how Sam was the best thing about his life (even though she was). When it came down to it, it wasn't his place to say anything.

That wasn't his life anymore.

As he watched Brigadier General Jack O'Neill walk away, he realized that he was glad.

---

"He seemed sad."

Jack pulled her body closer to him on the bed, enjoying the warmth and comfort she offered. "I think he was."

"Because of her?"

"All of it, I think. It wasn't supposed to work like this, you know. _I_ was supposed to be the miserable one."

"But you're not."

He smiled, brushing a kiss onto her neck because he could.

"No. Definitely not."


	7. Division Part 1

Author's Note: Remember years and years ago (Okay, somewhere around two, but whatever), when I finished _Divergence_ and swore that it was my last mini!fic? That I had finally said all I felt I needed to say on the subject? Yes, well, I am a liar. The end of Season Eight hit, and suddenly, I realized that there was something else that could be said about it after all. And in the grand tradition of mini!fic, it sort of took over my brain until I gave in.

--

"The first step to getting the things you want out of life is this: Decide what you want."

-Ben Stein

--

By the time senior year rolled around, Jack found that their former lives as interstellar superheroes seemed more like the plot of a sci-fi summer blockbuster than anything else. Sure, from time to time they all missed that life and its many perks, but for Jack there was always something more important to do than dwell on it—training for the upcoming hockey finals, or taking Sam out for a night on the town, or trying to convince people _not_ to elect him Class President.

So surprisingly, he didn't think about it much. Life as an American teenager was hard enough—why complicate it more than they had to? They had their hands full with part time jobs and college applications and trying to avoid attracting too much attention. All they really needed from their old lives was the stipend that arrived in the mail once a month without fail.

Though admittedly, if he asked Sam, she'd tell him that they could have used a naquadah reactor, too. Y'know, to save on electric bills.

But in general, they were determined to manage on their own.

--

"The roof is leaking again."

"I know. T and I are going to check it out this weekend."

"All right. Hey, don't forget that Daniel and I are taking the car on Saturday."

"…Why is that, again?"

"We've got the Academic Challenge tournament, remember?"

He hadn't. "Oh. Right. Do you want me and T to come? Because we could do that instead."

"That's sweet, but unnecessary. It's going to be dreadfully boring. I still can't believe Daniel suckered me into it."

"He has a bad habit of doing that. You sure you don't want us there?" There was a side of him that found watching Daniel and Sam beat self-important teenagers into the ground without breaking a sweat incredibly entertaining.

Unfortunately, she simply smiled and kissed him. "No, what I _want_ is not to get woken up on rainy mornings by the incessant dripping."

As he'd _finally_ gotten used to being able to touch her, Jack kept her close. "I can take care of that," he stated confidently. And when she leveled him with a slightly disbelieving glance, he just grinned. "Well, I'll try, anyway."

--

Because feeding and clothing four teenagers on an income regulated by a less-than-generous federal government was no easy task, it had been clear early on that getting jobs wasn't going to be an option, but a necessity. Luckily, SG-1's freakishly good luck in the field translated rather well to the rat race of obtaining gainful part-time employment.

Daniel fell into the most obvious choice, ending up with a clerk position at the local library. Sure, it wasn't the same as translating artifacts from a galaxy far, far away, but books had managed to make Daniel happy long before the Stargate program and as it turned out, they still did. Seeing as the guy organized things into the Dewey decimal system as a way to relax, it made a lot of sense.

They all thought for awhile that Teal'c might go into some kind of security, but as it turned out, you had to be eighteen for that sort of thing. Instead, he had managed to get a recommendation from his Life Sciences teacher for a job as a chef's assistant. Why, exactly, T found it so entertaining to slice vegetables for hours on end, Jack would never understand. But it made the big guy happy and he often brought home free food, so Jack wasn't about to complain.

Sam's job came about by accident. She had spent a lot of the last year haunting the local garage, looking for parts to fix up the mess of a junker that Jack had been suckered into buying. Eventually, the guys that worked there had just gotten used to having her around. Now, she was probably the only seventeen year old girl in the United States who basically ran an auto repair shop, and she loved every minute of it.

Jack loved her job too, because she always came home smelling like engine grease and sweat. He'd always had a thing for blondes who fixed cars—Sara had been elbow deep in the engine of a Ford pick-up when he blurted out his proposal. Besides, whenever she managed to fix some previously unfixable machine, her smile was just as bright as the old 'I've conquered an indecipherable piece of alien technology' grin he had loved for so long. But now, instead of being secretly enamored and having to hide it with a sarcastic remark, he got to kiss her—and _then_ make a sarcastic remark.

Hey, even the new and improved Jack O'Neill, version 2.0 could only handle so much cute before feeling slightly nauseated.

As for Jack himself, well, that had been a little more difficult. He'd tried a number of jobs, and they were all...fine. His stint as a tour guide for the local planetarium had been fun for awhile, and he'd liked working at the daycare, too. The pizza delivery job meant lots of free food, but the junker hadn't liked the amount of driving. A temporary job as a karate instructor only led him to realize that even though he could kill a man five different ways with his bare hands, he knew nothing about karate.

Finally, after going through six jobs and more than his average amount of patience, Jack landed the perfect gig.

Now, three days a week after school and alternating weekends, he drove the Zamboni at the local ice rink.

--

It was the state hockey finals, but instead of enjoying a nice long warm-up like the rest of the guys, Jack was being served the third degree.

"You're sure you've got all your pads on?"

"Yes."

"And the ice is clean and smooth or whatever?"

"Finished it an hour ago."

"Is that long enough? I mean, is it all refrozen or whatever?"

"For God's sake, Daniel. I'd swear you were my mother."

Daniel made a face. "Oh, don't get me wrong. This isn't concern. It's just that when you broke your arm last year playing this infernal sport, it cost us a small fortune to get it set."

"This coming from the guy who tripped down the stairs and broke multiple ribs not even three months ago."

At least Daniel had the grace to look chagrined. Really, neither one of them wanted to admit that being a teenage boy was just damn awkward. Sometimes, your feet got away from you.

While Sam laughed at their antics and ate popcorn, Teal'c glowered at the rink. "I still feel that this sport is inferior to football, O'Neill. I do not understand why you persist in participating."

"You're just grumpy because we won't let you play, T."

Everyone had agreed that the idea of Teal'c on ice skates while wielding a hockey stick was enough to strike terror into the hearts of teenagers everywhere. As such, he had been forbidden to play.

Teal'c, of course, saw it as a form of tyrannical oppression and had on several occasions, threatened to overthrow them. In-between these bursts of rebellion, however, he tended to sulk.

Sam, in her blue winter hat and (mostly) blue mittens, leaned forward and slapped Jack's helmet. "What are you still doing here? Go kick some ass."

He fastened the chin guard and smirked at her. "And to think those peppy cheerleading skills come completely naturally. A waste of god-given talent, I'm telling you."

On his way back towards the ice, he had to duck the popcorn kernels she pelted in his direction.

--

Romance, as it turned out, was a bit of a sticking point. Oh, Jack was set just fine—he had Sam, who was beautiful and brilliant and devious. She somehow managed to look deceptively sweet and innocent while secretly hoarding a repertoire of sexual positions that even made _him_ blush from time to time. (What's more, thanks to the extremely bendy new body, she was more than able to follow through on that oh-so-delightful knowledge.)

Daniel and Teal'c, on the other hand, had no convenient fellow clone with whom they had unresolved issues to fall for. Strangely, for Teal'c, this turned out not to be much of a problem. As he saw it, he was now a teenager in any way that mattered, so there was nothing to prevent him from enjoying the company of the _many_ young ladies lined up for the chance.

After all, he had been over a hundred _before_ the whole cloning incident—if he only dated women that matched his intellectual age, he'd be forced to become a permanent fixture at the local nursing home. So, Teal'c did not hesitate to date.

And date.

And date some more. Oh, he always treated the girls with the utmost respect (it wasn't in Teal'c to do otherwise), he just enjoyed playing the field.

Realistically, his dating habits were probably a good thing—the constant entrance and exit of girls in Teal'c's life forced them all to socialize with people other than each other. Sam had stayed friends with a few of the girls, and one had even developed a crush on Daniel—not that it had done any good.

No, Daniel found the whole prospect of dating someone who didn't remember the Challenger explosion more than a little disconcerting. Besides the whole inevitable ick factor, there was the problem that Daniel just really didn't have much in common with the average teenage girl. As a result, Daniel was more likely to be found hanging out in the Teacher's Lounge than in the cafeteria—which, of course, led to a whole new set of problems.

--

"I kissed her."

Seeing as Jack hadn't even known Daniel was dating someone, this was quite a surprise. "You kissed who?"

"Julie."

"Er…Julie who?"

Why did Daniel seem to be blushing? "Julie Beech."

"Julie Be…wait. You kissed _Miss Beech_? The AP history teacher?"

"Yes. I did."

To be clear, Daniel could do worse than Miss Beech, a very pretty woman in her early thirties. But the fact remained….

"Daniel, that's bad on _so_ many levels."

"I know!"

"I mean, she's your _teacher_."

"I know!"

"You're her _student_!"

"Jack, for God's sake, I _know_! I just…we were arguing over the order of the Fourth Dynasty pharaohs and she was laughing and I just…forgot. Don't worry, I apologized. Promised it wouldn't happen again."

"Yeah." Really, it was sort of sad—Miss Beech and the older Daniel would have made a nice couple. But saying that certainly wouldn't help anyone.

After a moment of silence, Jack couldn't help but ask. "Was it a good kiss?"

Daniel didn't even hesitate. "_Oh_, yeah."

Definitely a shame. "Well, you can always tell her to call you after graduation."


	8. Division Part 2

--

Despite Daniel's Mrs. Robinson-esque fiasco, they really were doing okay on their own. And while they didn't dwell on their old lives, they certainly didn't ignore them, either. News often came in the same envelope as their monthly check—frequently in the form of a letter hand-written by good old Walter containing the most recent news at the SGC.

When they heard that the _Prometheus_ (as well as Daniel) had been hijacked by some alien chick in leather, Jack laughed for days. The news of Rya'c's nuptials was celebrated by the procurement of beer (Sam was their secret weapon against getting carded). They polished off the beer when they heard about Kinsey's demise, cheering Earth's good fortune.

On the other hand, when news of Jacob's death arrived, they lit a candle and sat in the living room with Sam, three friends trying to help her reconcile the loss of someone who was no longer hers to mourn.

Somehow, they had managed to find a balance between respecting what had been without letting it mean everything—they no longer lived and died by the triumphs and failures of their old lives. They celebrated and mourned briefly because once upon a time, these people had been their everything. But eventually, that faded and all they had left was each other—and surprisingly, they had discovered over the years that it was more than enough.

Still, it had to be admitted that when the big news came—the end of the Replicators, the disappearance of Anubis, the effective demise of the Goa'uld—they hadn't been quite prepared.

Despite all of their well-adjusted practices, some small part of them had always believed that they'd eventually end up back at the SGC, fighting the fight they had been in the middle of before being so rudely interrupted.

Now…there was no reason for them to go back.

Because they didn't quite know how to deal with it, they quickly fell back on their tried and true routine: avoidance.

After all, the SATs were right around the corner.

--

"I still do not understand the point of these 'analogies', Daniel Jackson."

"That's because you're thinking too hard, Teal'c. There _isn't_ really a point. It's just a way for people to judge your level of reasoning and comprehension."

Two years ago, Teal'c would have stated that judging a young man's skill in battle tactics would accomplish this more thoroughly.

Today, he merely turned back to his studies. "Are my previous achievements in school not enough to ensure a place in 'college'? Why is it necessary to subject myself to this superfluous 'SAT'?"

"Ah, the question teenagers have been asking for eighty years. Don't stress yourself out too much, T, you're a shoo-in for a football scholarship."

"_Jack_. He shouldn't count on that. The SATs are important!"

"Daniel, you're just pissy because they changed the format and now you have to write an essay."

"Well, no one can write an effective essay in twenty minutes or less! Developing a good argument takes time and research and…."

"And endless lectures on very boring things. We _know_."

Daniel was glaring at him again. Jack just smirked and went back to his biology homework. Eventually, Daniel followed suit, turning back to poor, confused T.

"Focus, Teal'c. Tenet is to philosopher as…."

--

Unfortunately, avoidance didn't work that long. Somehow over the course of this bizarre return to puberty, the four of them had gotten into the habit of actually _talking_ about things. When you lived with people who knew you inside and out, it was impossible to hide a bad mood for long—not to mention that repression tended to make their day-to-day lives significantly more uncomfortable.

So it wasn't really a surprise that when the awkward silences became too much to handle, Daniel locked them all in the living room 'to discuss this new development'. And at first, it was strained and they were pissed at him.

Well, Jack was still pissed at him. But that was normal.

Still, the result was one _very_ long discussion. And while no answers were reached right away, one thing was clear—whatever they decided to do, they would do it together.

After all, being together had gotten them this far.

When Daniel finally let them out, satisfied that they had met their quota of heart-to-hearts for the next millennia, Jack took a walk, thinking over their options.

College was an obvious option. The question was really more where they would end up. Staying in Colorado was the cheapest, and there were plenty of good schools right around Boulder. They could keep the house and just keep on the way they were. Besides, they would be nearby if anything…happened.

And of course, there was the Air Force. It was probably the quickest way to lead them back to their old lives—the Stargate, interstellar space wars and snarky aliens. But the idea of going through the Academy or climbing the ranks again was sort of tiresome. Besides, the idea of Daniel in the armed forces was still kind of ridiculous, even after all those years in the field.

Strangely, Jack found himself toying with the idea of someplace far away. An out of state school on the East coast, or maybe the Midwest—someplace completely new, where they could live their lives without the specter of the Stargate hanging over them.

Because even though he missed his old life sometimes, upon further reflection Jack found that he didn't really want it back.

--

Back in the living room, they huddled together, discovering that they didn't really need to argue about the decision—just the particulars.

"I know Washington D.C. pretty well. Georgetown, American University, and George Mason are all there."

Jack wrinkled his nose. "Sam, a lot of things may have changed over the past few years, but how I feel about Washington is _not_ one of them. Besides, didn't _he_ get transferred there?"

Sam snorted with disbelieving laughter. "There's a disaster waiting to happen."

Seeing as he entirely agreed with her sentiment, Jack couldn't object. "What about New York? Teal'c wouldn't stand out so much." After all, it was difficult to stand out in an entire city full of people who were trying to be individual.

Daniel, however, winced. "I'm not a huge fan of New York."

When Sam whispered "Gamekeeper," Jack understood—as he knew too well, some memories just didn't fade, even if there weren't technically yours.

Teal'c, who had been silently examining a map of the United States, finally asked, "O'Neill, are you not acquainted with the city of Chicago?"

They sat in silence for a moment, eyeing one another. "Teal'c…" Jack said slowly, "That's…not a horrible idea."

"Not too far, but not too close," Daniel commented. "Great museums."

"Northwestern University has a world famous science department," Sam offered.

"It could work," Jack reiterated. "What made you think of it, Teal'c?"

Teal'c appeared very solemn. "I have been told that Chicago has the finest pizza in the United States."

Admittedly, it wasn't a great reason to move across the country. But together, they decided that it was good enough.

--

Once the decision had been made, a curious sense of relief seemed to overtake their little house. Now, instead of constantly lurking about and avoiding probing questions about "the future" from every direction, they could make plans. There were forms to fill out and packing to do and travel arrangements to make.

For the first time, they could look into the future and see something besides hypotheticals. They had a definite destination and somehow, it made it easier to imagine a future that didn't involve the past.

Daniel was actually considering going into Sociology instead of Archeology. Sam was leaning towards Engineering instead of Physics. Teal'c began training for his first semester on a college football team. And though he'd be hard-pressed to admit it, Jack was looking into the sciences for a major.

Because he wasn't brilliant like Sam or Daniel and wasn't a football hero like Teal'c, Jack's major worry was getting into the same school they did. As such, he agonized over his applications—Sam joked that it was probably the most time he had spent on paperwork in his entire life.

She was right, of course.

Good test scores and a solid academic record weren't quite enough to soothe his worries. In the end, it was his application essay that restored his normal cocky confidence—a treatise on friendship, laced with sarcastic wit and honest enthusiasm. Jack knew he'd never show it to any of them, but he wrote it and meant it and he thought that was probably enough.

It certainly wasn't something he could have done two years ago. But then again, that was sort of the point.

Before they were quite ready for it, the harried frenzy of the last months of senior year was upon them. People passed around yearbooks and took ridiculous photos and played a truly pathetic senior prank. And while they didn't participate in any of it, the four of them watched and laughed and enjoyed it.

Surrounded by hundreds of eighteen year olds throwing themselves into the future at breakneck speeds, it was hard not to be excited about change.

--

Senior Week had been one slightly campy activity after another, culminating in the one event Jack had been looking forward to—Senior Skip Day. Of course, traditionally you were supposed to use the extra day to prepare for Prom, which was on the following evening. But considering that they were only going to Prom because they had all been nominated for Prom King and Queen respectively (despite their very vocal objections), Jack could ignore the agonizing over every detail of the ritual.

Instead, he went searching for Sam, who he found in the driveway, loading a few bags into the junker. "Going somewhere?"

She tilted her head. "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Well, it depends."

"On what, exactly?"

Sam sighed, slamming the trunk. "I turned eighteen last week."

Jack knew—he had been there. There had been cake. Good cake, because Teal'c had made it. "I remember."

"And you were eighteen in January."

Honestly, he still had issues with birthdays. But according to the piece of paper the government had given him when this whole thing started, she was right. "Yes…and…so?"

"Well, it's Senior Skip Day. Meaning no school."

Eventually, she'd get to a point. He was almost positive. "Okay…."

"I figure if we leave now, we can be back in time for the Prom tomorrow."

"Leave for _where_, Carter?"

"…Vegas."

Whoa. He had _so_ not been expecting that. But now that he thought about it, the idea was, in typical Carter fashion, brilliant. "Really?"

It wasn't until now that he could see how nervous she was. "Yeah. I mean, if you still want to."

"Sam…you have _no_ idea."

--

Because he really had thought about this day more than he'd ever admit, Jack didn't let her rush things. Together with the boys, they scraped up enough cash for plane tickets (because he didn't trust the junker not to break down and strand them in the middle of the desert). It was extravagant, buying four round trip tickets on such short notice—but this was a budget breaker they all agreed was worth the trouble.

Once there, things fell into place. They picked out the cheapest rings they could find (plain bands of silver) and Sam found a dress that didn't annoy her to death (shimmery and blue). Conveniently, the first wedding chapel they walked into was surprisingly not too garish and had an immediate opening.

There weren't any last-minute jitters or doubts, no qualms at all. Just Sam with some lilies in her hand and Jack in the only suit he had (the shoes were a size too small already).

Daniel (and possibly even Teal'c) cried. Jack, on the other hand, couldn't stop grinning. Sam, for her part, mocked them all, and then proceeded to kiss him until his brain stuttered to a delighted halt.

Afterwards, it didn't matter that their flight got delayed. They toasted over bad airport food (Teal'c found the cuisine particularly upsetting) and dozed in uncomfortable chairs. When they finally got back to Colorado, they went straight to the Prom.

Teal'c and one of his many girlfriends ended up getting crowned King and Queen. That was fine, seeing as Jack and Sam were perfectly content with their new titles. Besides, winning would have been a bit of a cliché—Jack already felt ridiculous knowing that on prom night, he was _so_ getting laid.

--

Monday morning brought the last week of school and a concerned summons from the school guidance counselor for the pair.

Apparently, Mr. Bennet was concerned over "this drastic life choice."

Mr. Bennet, Jack was amused to note, was all of twenty-six years old.

While the "older" man droned on about rash decisions and the difficulties ahead of them, Jack covertly began scribbling on a piece of paper, just out of the lecturing man's line of sight.

_I'm having a hard time taking this seriously._

Sam glanced at his note and rolled her eyes. _I hadn't noticed. _

_Can you blame me?_

_Not really. But passing notes? Really, Jack? You never would have done this in a briefing._

_Oh, but I _wanted_ to. Daniel can drone on, you know. _

_I know. I'm just saying. Next, you'll be asking me 'Can we go to second base tonight? Check yes or no.'_

_Sam...at this point, we've kind of blown second base out of the water. Repeatedly and with great enthusiasm. _

He caught her trying to stifle a giggle at that one. _Good point._ Then, she ogled him a little, heaving a sigh. _Where's a storage closet when you need one?_

--

Graduation came and went, and by the end of the next week, everything was ready. Housing in Chicago had been secured, everything was packed and shipped off to Illinois, and the junker was ready and waiting to go.

When the time came, Jack found himself dawdling, double-checking to make sure nothing had been left behind and imprinting everything in his memory one last time.

Sam fixing the junker in the driveway.

Playing catch with Teal'c in the front yard.

Daniel throwing his history textbook at the TV.

Strange that he found himself more sentimental over this old dump than he had even been about the SGC in recent months.

It didn't last long though, because he had finally learned that everything he really needed was already loaded into the junker. Teal'c, behind the wheel waiting patiently. Daniel, studying a map _way_ too intently. And Sam, stretched along the back seat, ordering him to get a move on with a smile and sinfully short cut-offs.

Admittedly, this life had been forced upon him. He had been miserable at the prospect of it, feeling that he'd been forcibly and unjustifiably ripped from everything that had been important to him.

Now, he wondered why he would have wanted anything else.

--

Settling along the back seat with Sam tucked alongside him, Jack plucked the map straight out of Daniel's hands. "_That's_ not a good idea."

With Teal'c already driving the car down the street, Daniel pouted. "Jack. I can navigate perfectly well."

"Oh, I know you can. But if _you_ navigate, we'll somehow find ourselves driving two days out of the way to see a completely ridiculous and useless artifact, like the World's Largest Cheeto or something."

"I would never take us that far out of our way for a Cheeto! I don't even _like_ Cheetos!"

"Fine. Still, I'd be willing to bet that we'd find ourselves at _way_ more than one so-called 'historical' landmark."

"Hmph."

"O'Neill."

"Yes, Teal'c?"

"I would very much like to see this Cheeto."

"…D'oh!"

Against his chest, he could feel Sam quaking with giggles. Looking up at him, she grinned. "_Whose_ idea was it to drive all the way to Illinois again?"


	9. Deja Vu

Title: Déjà Vu

Author: Christi

Disclaimer: Seriously? Seriously.

Pairing: Some min!Sam/mini!Jack and a very tiny bit (hardly anything at all, just flirting silliness) of Cam/Vala.

Author's Note: Um, so waaaay, waaaay back during the whole timestamp meme business, **familyarchives** asked for five years after _Division_. So this is like a mini-epilogue or something. Damn her. Also, appallingly unbeta'd. So.

--

Some visuals, Vala decided, just made you stop and take stock. Take the one currently in fromt of her, for example – Cameron Mitchell hunched behind a curtain in the infirmary, leaning at what seemed an impossible angle. 

"Cameron, what exactly are you do—" she started before his head snapped towards her and he flailed a bit, hushing her. 

"Nothing! Quiet!"

"Small chance of _that_," she muttered. "Honestly, what's going on?"

"Oh, for—come here!" he ordered, pulling her to his side. "Now shhh. I'm eavesdropping."

"And you didn't call me? I'm hurt. Eavesdropping is one of the only fun things to do around here. You find out the most interesting things. Things like the details of Dr. Lam's off hours – she makes _me_ look boring. And that Jennifer Hailey apparently has a crush on you. Or that you think that I have a too many guts and a fantastic—"

A firm hand over her mouth finally stopped the chatter. "Vala. You've made it quite clear that you are adorable with the talking and the grinning and the trouble-making. But seriously, for once, just shut up, okay? There's something wacky going on."

With wide eyes, she nodded until he removed his hand. "Fine. But we're coming back to the discussions of my various charms later."

"Don't we always? Now, let me listen."

Curious as to what had Cameron so worked up, Vala listened as well – and was promptly just as confused as her partner in crime.

"I'm just saying, it's weird to be back. Especially since we're not really…_back_." A man's voice said.

"We're in the infirmary. How much more _back_ do you think we're going to get?" A second replied.

"Well, sure, but it's just for a check-up. Not a real…thing."

"Jack, did you just call the impending birth of our first child 'not a real thing'?" A disturbingly familiar female voice said.

"You know what I mean! We're only here to get them to give some doctor out in Chicago security clearance. No world saving or shooting or wacky alien experiences."

"Jack, we _are_ the wacky alien experience."

"Right. I keep forgetting that."

An exasperated sigh could be heard. "Why don't you come over here and pay some attention to the wife you knocked up?"

"You know, I seem to recall a cliché about there needing to be two to-"

"Daniel?"

"Yeah, Sam?"

"Hit him for me."

From the following noises, Vala was pretty certain that someone slapped someone, but whether it was the way the girl had intended was unclear – along with pretty much everything else. And before they could listen too much longer, the girl spoke again.

"T, why are you hovering over by the curtain?"

"I am attempting to ascertain who is listening to our conversation," a fourth, deeper voice, replied. 

Predictably, after an outraged exclamation, the curtain was yanked back, exposing Cameron and Vala's hiding spot – as well as revealing the four figures they had been listening to so intently. 

Except that the speakers appeared to be little more than…children. Well, young, anyway. And while they were vaguely familiar, they really…weren't at all. "Um, hello?" Vala offered with a grin.

The four of them just stared for a few moments. "Who are you?" the first speaker, apparently named Jack, asked.

"Who are _we_?" Cameron exclaimed with incredulity. "Who are _you_?"

"We're classified," the girl on the bed said with a smile. "You really shouldn't be in here."

And with that, the big black kid who had discovered them proceeded to usher them out the door. Standing in the hall, Vala found herself remarkably without words. "That was…odd," she finally managed.

"You're not kidding," Cameron agreed. "Like déjà vu all over again. Except not, obviously."

She eyed him. "You do realize that I'm not actually from this planet, right? Half the time, I have no idea what you're saying."

He grinned. "Then let's change the subject."

"Yes, let's. I seem to remember _something_ about me being adorable, which is, of course, obvious. But I could stand to hear more…."


End file.
